


A part of every universe

by wertdifferenz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2020-10-04 01:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20462549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wertdifferenz/pseuds/wertdifferenz
Summary: Ballet dancers Lance and Keith, dancing their own little pas de deux in the quietness of the night.





	1. Pas de deux

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a collection of drabbles I post on my Instagram account: @wertdifferenz.art
> 
> I am definitely much more active there, so if you want more stories, go check it out!

It’s in the middle of the night when Lance can’t sleep anymore. The restlessness he felt for the last few days got the best of him yesterday, where he slumped into bed right after the last practice and hasn’t woken up since.

Until now, 4am, with the sun not even thinking about rising and this part of the world dead asleep.

With a quiet sigh Lance gets up, careful to not disturb his roommate. Hunk’s been keeping up with his bullshit for the past few weeks; Lance can at least let him sleep until the clock shows a nicer number.

He grabs a fresh pair of blue tights and a white hoodie that covers enough for this time of the day, pulls both on and jumps into the bathroom, making sure that the door is closed before he turns the lights on. Hunk is a heavy sleeper, but Lance takes no chances.

A quick look into the mirror makes him frown, but Lance doesn’t have the energy to do much more than wash his face, put on a nice day cream and brush his teeth before deciding it’s enough. He can shower later, when he’s sure that he won’t disturb half of the dorm with his antics.

It’s half past 5 when he finally leaves for the training halls.

The halls are quiet, the usual bustling energy from all the students and teachers roaming the school during the day missing completely and leaving the atmosphere kind of blank. Lance enjoys it though, the calmness and silence. It lets him breath freely, and easily, with no expectations pushing on his shoulders.

When he enters the main building of the training halls, Lance can make out the soft melody of violins playing in the distance. He rounds a few corners and finds the glass door where light shines through to illuminate the hallway.

Lance knows who’s in the room before he even sees him, knows that the same kind of restlessness is moving through his body, the same kind of expectations and pressure keeping them up, keeping them going.

The melody is familiar, not the piece they are practicing right now, but the one from two seasons ago. They never got to dance together; still Lance remembers every single step for his favorite performance, something he got to do through an accident.

His twin sister sprained her ankle just hours before the debut of the nutcracker, and finding a replacement was almost impossible with one fourth of the cast already sick due to a nasty flu. In the end, they found a wig, some socks to put in a bra, and some heavy make up, put everything on Lance and pushed him onto the stage, hoping that he remembered the steps from their shared lessons.

He did, and he delivered, and danced the rest of the season as the sugar plum fairy of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker.

The almost silent confession just how much he loves dancing the _pas de deux _did not go unnoticed to Keith, who surprised him a few weeks later by dancing with him as his Cavalier in the middle of their biggest training room. It was in the middle of the night as well, the room illuminated by a big, antique chandelier above their heads, and Lance has never loved to dance more than in this very moment.

Has never loved anyone else more than Keith for this very moment.

The night faded, but their passion, their love for each other didn’t. With every training, class or performance they did together, Lance fell more and more for Keith, until he couldn’t hide it anymore, confessed in the middle of their nightly _pas de deux_; and luckily Keith felt the same.

Since then, Lance didn’t need to hide himself anymore; didn’t need to advert his gaze when their eyes met, didn’t need to hide a smile whenever Keith lifted him for a figure, didn’t need to force his blush away when Keith got a little bit too close.

And it’s always a pleasure to have him so close. His hands on Lance’s waist, stabilizing him during his pirouettes. His strong shoulders under Lance’s hand, keeping him steady whenever Lance practices a new figure. His constant presence behind Lance, calming him on the open stage and in their private little bubble.

And whenever Keith lifts him, Lance feels like he’s flying. 

Just like now, in the middle of their dance. It’s not the lift Lance did in the original performance. Over the time, they added a Grand Jeté here, a Tour en l'air there, and just everything and anything they thought would be fun. This dance is just for them. With Lance’s favorite music and Keith’s favorite jumps they created a beautiful choreography that’s no one ever going to see.

Because it’s just for them.

Just the both of them.

And they dance the night away.


	2. Night night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance helps Keith get some rest.

If Keith is scared one thing, it’s exams.

Well, losing his brother or getting put back into the system even though he’s already twenty are things he’s scared off as well, but today – or tonight – his biggest fear are exams.

College exams to be specific. His biology college exams to be extra specific.

His biology college exam that he’s not going to pass because he hates biology and procrastinated learning for to be super extra specific.

Keith is so screwed, and with sleep avoiding him like a wild animal staying away from blue light, Keith is not in his bed like he should be, but on a couch in the common room of his dorm, studying his ass off. The words are blurred and he doesn’t understand half of what the books are trying to tell him, but still.

He can’t sleep. So he studies.

A few other students shuffle around the kitchen down the hall, some are even in the little dining room next to it, studying quietly to not disturb the rest of the dorm, but Keith is alone in the common room, sprawled over one of the old, musty couches, a pillow in his lap and a book on top of it. Every now and then he’s pushing his bangs behind his ears, bites the inside of his cheeks or takes a generous sip from one of the off-brand soda the open-late store next door sells; everything to keep him awake.

His eyes are heavy, but he can’t sleep.

Every now and then Keith registers the ticking of the large, station clock on the wall. Probably the most expensive thing in this room, donated by a former student of this college. He studies biology as his main subject, and physics and astronomy as a secondary subjects, the exact opposite from Keith’s subjects.

Which he needs to learn for right now.

“Uuuuurgh.” An annoyed sigh leaves his lips as Keith re-read the same paragraph for the fourth time. The late hour doesn’t help him concentrate at all, neither do the off-brand soda or the fact that he is so tired, but can’t sleep.

Nothing can help his stupid ass now, he realizes with a frustrated, internal outcry. He keeps quiet though, because he doesn’t want to disturb the rest of the dorm either. He’s just cranky and tired, but not an asshole.

Regret floods through his veins as Keith gives up reading this damn paragraph and leans his head onto the backrest of the couch. He should have started studying sooner, should have ask Lance for help, shouldn’t have drank this extra strong coffee for dinner that makes his heart to somersaults in his chest.

He should sleep.

But he can’t.

If only Lance was here. He could explain those stupid biology terms in an easy way, he could help Keith stay awake and learn for this test; hell, he could probably even get Keith to sleep. He did last year, with just a stern look and the softest pillow from his collection of soft pillows. But last year Keith didn’t have extra strong coffee for dinner, and this year Lance isn’t around. He’s probably sleeping, like Keith should.

But still, if only-

“Keith?”

Oh wow, now his brain is playing tricks on him. How sleep deprived must be to hear Lance’s voice when he needs him?

“Are you still studying?” The voice gets louder. Closer. It’s still a whisper, since some of the students are very unfortunate and have their rooms on the same floor as the common rooms, but everyone is very nice and tries to keep quiet during the night. Just like Lance would. If he were here.

But it can’t be. Lance should be asleep. He has an exam as well tomorrow. Not biology, but something else. Was it chemistry? Art? Wait, he doesn’t study art…

A person stops next to him, places a hand on Keith’s shoulder and calls out his name again. It’s definitely Lance’s voice, and the soft pajama pants with kittens eating fast food on top is definitely Lance’s; but it takes another second for Keith’s brain to connect the dots.

“Oh.” And believe it or not, Keith’s brain actually realizes that he didn’t start full on hallucinating because of the coffee and lack of sleep, but that- “You’re real.”

“Dude.” A raised eyebrow and a tiny frown is all Keith can see when he lifts his head. The bright lamp right on the ceiling makes it hard to see anything else than the halo around Lance’s head. Since when did Lance have a halo? “Keith, you should sleep.”

It’s Keith’s time to frown. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

A sigh that turns into a yawn leaves his lips, and Keith gives into the urge to rub his ears. He feels tired, he looks tired, he is tired, but still. “I don’t know.”

Lance hums, low and long, a comforting sound that shouldn’t be comforting. “Do you need a soft pillow again?”

“Only if you plan on smothering me with it,” Keith huffs, only half joking, because Keith is so tired that he wouldn’t mind sleeping for like, a year. Or even longer. He doesn’t care. He wants to sleep.

But he can’t sleep.

“I had coffee for dinner,” Keith admits quietly, suddenly feeling a wave of shame that makes him want to curl into himself. But the pillow on his lap is in the way.

“Dude, I know that.” Lance bumps his shoulder. “I was there, and I told you not to drink it, remember?”

“I should have listened to you.”

“Probably,” Lance huffs. But he doesn’t sound disappointed. Or angry. Or frustrated like Keith is feeling with himself. He just sounds a bit concerned, and comforting like the sound of a stream tumbling over some rocks and creating a mini-waterfall.

That sounds nice. Keith would love to sleep to that.

But he can’t sleep.

“Come on.” Lance whispers those words to him, the smile on his face clear in the soft hush of his voice. And instead of trying to pull Keith up, which is probably impossible by now, he sits down on the couch and pulls Keith’s head onto his lap. “Close your eyes.”

Keith complies quickly, feels a blanket being draped over his shoulders and the warmth of the pillow echoing into his stomach. Feels the softness of Lance’s pajama pants under his cheeks and nuzzles into it, too tired to even think of feeling ashamed right now.

Because with every passing second, with every tick of the clock on the wall, with every slow breath he can hear from above him, Keith glides deeper into the abyss of sleep, and right into a field of fluffy, white clouds.

“I promise to wake you on time, don’t worry.”

Keith feels the winds playing with his hair, pulling the clip he uses to keep the biggest strands from falling into his face away, fixing the blanket around his shoulders and letting him fly.

“Keith?” Lance whispers softly, his voice gliding through the clouds like a bird. Keith follows that voice higher into the sky, floating with it towards the moon where he can rest his heavy body. He feels a low vibration under him, the moon chuckling quietly before he brushes a few strands of Keith’s hair out of his face, his fingers oh so gently. “Good night, Keith,” is all he hears now, the words lulling him in even more.

“Night night,” Keith murmurs back, and with a last, deep breath, he lets himself fall, lets himself float, lets himself be held by those strong arms and enwrapped by the soft, ocean smell.

And finally, he can sleep.


	3. Put your stars on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is worried what kind of tattoo his boyfriend wants from him out of the blue, but Lance never fails to surprise him.

To say that Keith is nervous would be an understatement.

He is scared. Shitless. Scared Shitless with two capital ‘S’, all because of his boyfriend announcing in the morning that he is coming to Keith’s work to get a tattoo.

Which usually isn’t a problem. Lance has many little tattoos from Keith; a blue rose on his neck with dark green leaves, a lioness on his forearm with glowing blue eyes, an anchor on his heart that stand for the people he loves.

See, Keith has experience with tattooing Lance, enjoys it even, because where else can he stare for hours at his beautiful boyfriend without any interruption?

Well… at home he can, and he does it all the time, but that’s not the matter here.

Keith likes putting his art on Lance, likes the reaction he gets from his boyfriend, the long, enamored staring into the mirror, the soft touch of the lines and colors Keith created just for him, the blinding smile whenever Keith kisses his there when they-

Yes, Keith likes tattooing Lance.

But usually he gets, like, at least a month to prepare. Not four hours.

Four hours that got interrupted by two paying customers, meaning he had not a single minute to think of what Lance wants from him. If he even knew what Lance wants from him. Because he doesn’t.

Lance’s call in the morning solely consisted of ‘hey babe, are you free after lunch’ and ‘great, then I’m coming in to get a tattoo’ and ‘love you, bye’.

That’s it.

And that’s all it needs to stress Keith out.

The ten minutes in between customers he used to spam his boyfriend with messages, but they all got ignored. The half an hour lunch was spend with cleaning his whole office, putting old sketches into folders, throwing a few, used paints away and getting out new ones, blue, purple, greys; the exact colors Lance likes to choose.

And then he waited, until the bell at the front door and the chipper ‘hey guys’ announces Lance’s arrival. Keith leaves his studio and catches Lance chatting with Pidge at the front desk, turning towards him and giving him a quick kiss. Long enough to let Keith feel his happiness, but not long enough to make Pidge fake a few gags again.

When Pidge leaves them alone, Keith takes Lance’s hand and pulls him into his studio, getting straight to the point as soon as he closes the door behind them. “Lance, I can’t just wing a tattoo.”

“First of all: hello Keith, it’s nice to see you too.” Lance laughs and pulls Keith into a hug, kissing him for real this time, long and hot and making Keith forget everything for a few moments. But when he pulls back- ”Second: you did it before.”

The little bubble plops and Keith is left with an arm full of expectant boyfriend. “Yes, on some random customers. But not on you.” He frowns, looking down at the rose on Lance’s neck and running his eyes over the thin lines. “It’s going to stay there forever!”

“Babe,” Lance steps back with a sigh, but it doesn’t sound angry or sad. It’s more like a ‘I know what you think but I totally don’t think the same’ kind of sigh, and it makes Keith stomach flutter and fall, because he knows that he is about to lose a battle. “I trust you on this.”

Then he proceeds to make Keith’s heart stop by turning around and reaching for the collar of his shirt, pulling it off in one, swift movement. Keith is left with the lack of fresh air in his lungs and a perfect view of his second favorite thing about Lance.

His bare back.

You would think that this is not really hot or cute, but beside from the muscle playing under Lance’s soft, tan skin, that always manage to catch Keith’s attention, there is something on Lance’s back that he can’t stop staring at. His freckles.

His thousands and millions of tiny dots that mark his whole body, but are very prominent on the span of his back, his shoulders and neck. They look like stars in the sky, each and every single one forming a constellation that Keith has spend nights on looking at and calming himself after a stressful day or even a nightmare.

Whenever Lance lets him, Keith traces the constellations with his fingers. He doesn’t even need to search anymore to find his Scorpio, or Lance’s leo, or Orion, Aquarius, Cassiopeia, Ursa minor…

The placement doesn’t quite match the stars in the actual night sky, but Keith doesn’t mind. His own stars are much better than anything the universe can offer. And even know he can feel his hand twitch, his fingers tingle to reach out and touch-

“I know what you are thinking.” Lance’s words accompanied by a chuckle jerk Keith out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

Lance watches him over his shoulder with an amused sparkle in his eyes. “You are seeing the stars again, right?”

Ah, he knows him too well. “Yeah,” Keith nods, and tries to ignore the heat in his cheeks. Lord, three years with this man and the mere sight of some skin makes him blush.

“That’s good, because I want you to put them on me.”

Keith’s ears must be broken - “You want what?” – because that is just…

“I want you to draw your stars on me.” Lance turns around and places his shirt on Keith’s table before reaching for his hands. “No preparation and no planning. I want you to put your stars on me like you see them right now.” He intertwines their fingers and kisses the back of Keith’s hands while staring into his eyes, the certainty and assurance almost able to convince Keith.

But… he can’t just to it. Sure, Lance has already a tattoo of Keith on his body, but his stars? If they ever… gosh he doesn’t even want to think about it, but if they ever broke up, Lance wouldn’t only have Keith’s tattoos on him. He would have his back full of meaningful dots and lines and things that would always remind him of Keith. And this is…

“Are you sure?”

Lance steps closer and reaches around Keith’s shoulder to run his fingers over his tattoo there. A sun and a moon, the later only placed there after Lance came into his life. It’s his own little promise to Lance, his own little hope and wish for them to last.

Keith never told him the meaning of the moon, but he is sure that Lance found out anyway.

“Of course I am.”

These four words hold more meaning than Keith can even imagine, but with Lance’s fond look, with his steady hand in his neck and the other on his beating heart, Keith is able to grasp the depth of it.

Of them.

Of their moon and their stars and their life together. In every universe.


	4. DKLA

**Don’t keep loving round – Klance NSFW Drabble**

Words: 1052

The skin of his fingertips is rough as they scrape down Lance’s spine, feeling every single vertebra, kneading every single muscle that’s in his way. And Lance leans into the touch, yearns for the feeling of warmth, of acceptance, of…

He forces the air out of his lungs and right back in, trying to cool his head with a deep breath; but all he can smell is his cologne, his shampoo, their shared breath, and the taste of the last thirty minutes in the air, and he can’t think anymore.

Can’t think of the consequences of his actions, their actions. Can’t think of the questions that have been swirling in his head for the past weeks, every day since he reached out to other people and realized that it’s not the same. The feeling is different, the satisfaction missing, his heart thinking of someone else than the person he’s sharing a bed with in these moments.

He doesn’t want anyone else anymore.

_ So what do I do now? _

He is addicted to Keith’s rough touch, his soft kisses, his hot breath on his skin and the way he can break Lance’s whole being apart.

_ What do I do now? _

He can’t continue like this. Can’t leave his bed every day feeling like he’s flying and drowning at the same time. Can’t keep this- this feeling hidden anymore, even though he’s breaking the biggest taboo like this.

_ What do I do now? _

He can’t even bring himself to get up. Get away. Get out of his bed, his room, his spell.

_ I can’t keep loving round. _

xXx

The ceiling is covered in posters and stickers Lance is almost sick of seeing. Hell, he helped him put all this up, and it was a pain in the ass and an even bigger pain in his arms to make everything look perfect. Back then he wanted it to look nice for Keith. Now he doesn’t know if he wanted to make it look nice for him as well.

Because in the past few weeks, Lance has looked way too many times at this ceiling. The little Spiderman stickers, a few glowing stars in-between, everything surrounding some poster of a documentary Keith really likes.

He shouldn’t look at this like this. Not from his bed. Not while his clothes are thrown all around the room, his body barely covered with some sheets, and in the arms of Keith sleeping soundly next to him.

It shouldn’t be like this.  _ They _ shouldn’t be like this.

_ But we are. _

_ _

And Lance doesn’t know what to think of it anymore. Doesn’t know why he finds himself like this almost too often. Doesn’t know why even after dates and nights out, even after meetups with friends or even evenings alone, he ends up here.

In Keith’s bed.

In Keith’s arms.

His body satisfied while his heart yearns for more.

_ I can’t keep loving round. _

Keith stirs beside him. It’s almost time for his morning alarm to ring, the first of many, since he’s not really a morning person.

Lance should go.

He never stayed that long.

Never stayed longer than the few hours after they-

Never stayed until the first rays of sunshine could break through Keith’s curtains. Never stayed long enough to see the way Keith’s brows furrow just moments before waking, the way his eyes flutter open, the way he stares at the ceiling before his eyes finally meet Lance’s.

And they stay there, the confusion clear in his face. Because Lance never stayed so long, never dared to stay, never though he wanted to stay.

But here he is.

In Keith’s bed.

In his arms.

Staring right back.

And he-

He can’t keep loving round. Not anymore.

Keith blinks. Blinks again. Opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. It seems that he is just as much at a loss as Lance is. Because Lance never stays. But he is here. In his bed; in his arms.

And suddenly he isn’t so sure of himself anymore. Wasn’t sure of himself in the first place, but now it crashes down on him like an ocean wave.

What is he doing here?

Why didn’t he just leave?

Does Keith even want him here?

Unanswered questions tumble through his head like pebbles in the wrath of a storm at the sea. The ‘what if’s make his stomach turn, the ‘why’s make him dizzy, and Lance is scared.

Scared of love.

Scared of rejection.

Scared of what could be and what couldn’t be the moment Keith decides what to do with him.

But…

_ I can’t keep loving round. _

He can’t. Not anymore.

His heart is here, anchored in this bed, in his arms, and he can’t do it anymore. The meaningless one-night-stands. The twenty minutes of love in the lavatory of some random bar. The kisses and affection of another person that doesn’t want anything but a quick pleasure.

Not that he tasted Keith, he can’t.

He holds his breath as Keith looks down on him, his eyes full of wonder as if he was seeing an alien in his bed, not just Lance.

When their eyes meet again, Keith huffs a laugh, silent but so loud in the room that Lance can almost feel it on his skin. He bites his lip, thinking, hoping, wishing that-

That he is allowed to stay.

Please let him stay.

Keith takes Lance’s hand, the one resting on his chest, the one used to touch his warm skin and feel his calm heartbeat that seems to quicken with every second. He takes that hand and intertwined their fingers, squeezing tightly and guiding it to his mouth, until he can press his lips onto the back of Lance’s hand.

He places their intertwined hands back on his chest and turns to wrap Lance into a hug, to pull him closer, to kiss his forehead and close his eyes again. With is ear pressed over Keith’s heart he can hear it calm down, come to a rest. Keith’s steady breath accompanies his sleep, and Lance’s eyes start to feel heavy again.

His own heart settles, his own thoughts slow down until there is nothing but a single sentence left on his mind.

_ I won’t keep loving round. _

_ _

And in Keith’s warmth, he falls asleep.

  
  



End file.
